


We will sink into a final coma and end it all

by Dorthea



Series: When lightning strikes... [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Barry Allen & Iris West Friendship, Coma, Comatose Barry Allen, Good Parent Joe West, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt Barry Allen, Insomnia, Iris West Needs a Hug, Medical Device, Mentioned Felicity Smoak, POV Iris West, Parent Joe West, Protective Iris West, Protective Joe West, Sleep Deprivation, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorthea/pseuds/Dorthea
Summary: Before she hides the plastic bag deep inside her closet. Throwing some old hoodie over it, hiding a part of her life away inside a box. Because right now, Barry can be nothing more than a memory.A memory, just like her mother. Pushed to the back of her mind.In the distance she hears Joe’s car pull up into the driveway. The old engine singing it’s last verse, and soon needs replacement. Replacement they might not be able to afford of Barry needs medical treatment for a longer period of time. Or if Barry never walks again, and they need to find a handicap friendly place to live. Or if Barry wakes up, but never really recovers. A constant, permanent, vegetative state. Leaving Iris and Joe to care for him for the rest of his life.Iris wonders if Barry would want that. Being unable to do anything for himself ever again.***Iris lays awake, thinking about Barry. And hoping he'll one day wake up. Insomnia's a bitch, btw.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Iris West, Felicity Smoak & Iris West, Iris West & Joe West
Series: When lightning strikes... [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832113
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Insomnia

Iris west roles over, staring out her window. Out into the darkness of Central City. Into the quietness. Into the nothingness, that for days has kept her awake into the late hours of tired, December days. As her thoughts pulls her back into the reality she’s living. More alone, more hurt, and more scared than ever before. A constant, giant stone has placed itself in her throat. Her stomach twisting around itself, tying a knot on her insides. She can’t sleep.  
  
She’s been laying like this for hours. She doesn’t need to check her clock on the nightstand to know that. Doesn’t need to stare into the neo red lights, blinding her sensitive eyes. She doesn’t need to be reminded that she’s been twisting and turning in her bed, longer than she should have.  
  
Her father stays as the hospital most of the time, Iris wished she could as well. But deep down she knows that her sadness won’t help Barry. And… she does have that dissertation to finish.  
  
That thoughts spirals her even deeper. It feels like yesterday, or maybe it feels like months ago, Barry and her had talked about that dissertation. About her stress eating, and how she’d eaten two cronuts that day, and was now snaking on her foster brothers fries. Really, there had only gone a week since that night.  
  
How ironic, that now, more stressed and panicked than ever, Iris can’t eat anything. She tires, and she throws up in the matter of hours. She can’t keep a single bit down.  
  
The worry for Barry filled her stomach with a achy feeling.  
  
She remembers how she’d sighed and shrugged off Barry’s explanation of the particle accelerator. Joking about, if that included twerking. She thinks back to all the time Barry had explained something nerdy to her, and how she’d never really listened. Now she wishes she had. Wishes she could go back, relive every moment with Barry all over again. The good once, the sad once, the stupid and weird once, the boring once, the moments that shouldn’t have happened, and she wishes, she could remember them into the smallest details. Watching them over an over.  
  
She wishes Barry could watch over her shoulder, explaining everything into her ear with a whisper, as doctor after doctor and nurses after nurses throws complicated words and diagnosis at her and Joe. Things neither of them understands. Well knowing, that Barry would understand it.  
  
She goes over that night in her head, over and over again. About what she could have done differently. What could have changed. And she never finds the answer.  
  
Not when the thief pulls her bag out of her hands, the weight of her computer being ripped from her. And the panic of the dissertation getting lost makes her heart race. As she watched Barry run after him, and herself following troop, close by, right in Barry’s tracks. But the man’s too fast. The man’s too smart. And Iris watches from a distance as Barry falls to the ground, and hears the crack of his nose. She watches, as Barry’s punched in the stomach. As he leans against a wall, as Iris catches up with the two of them. And despite the relief she’d felt that he was alright, Iris almost found herself wishing he’d been hurt more badly. Enough for an ambulance to come, and pick him up, or for them to go to the ER, so he wouldn’t have been there when the light sticked.  
  
She finds herself pushing that though deep into the back of her mind, chewing her lip as she twists around again. Pulling her blankets, a little closer to her cold body. Seeking out comfort.  
  
Would it in some distant world, have been better if Barry needed surgery for a broken rib, that had punctured a lung? Maybe it would have. The uncertainty of a coma, of Barry’s instability would have been eliminated. Everything would have been completely under control. But… wouldn’t she still be sitting next to her foster brother’s hospital bed, begging him to get better?  
  
She can still see the blood when she closes her eyes. Barry leaning his head back, the white paper sucking up the thick red liquid as they’d gotten back to the station that night.  
  
Iris can’t help but wonder, if this had been the defying moment locking Barry’s destiny. If she’d take his hand, and begged him to stay, that maybe he wouldn’t have run up those stairs to work a little more before he would head home. Maybe then, the lightning would have hit an empty lab, instead of Barry.  
  
Barry who’d been all alone, as the power and electricity had run through his body.  
  
Iris imagens the pain he must have felt. Wonders if he knew, this was the end. If his life had passed in front of his eyes. His mothers murder, all the people who didn’t believe him, the bullying. And, if he’d found comfort in the moment with herself and Joe. If that had helped him to stay calm.  
  
She wonder’s what might have gone through his head, as he’d been thrown into the chemical rack. Or if he’d already been long gone. Deep into the coma, by the time he’s body hit the floor.  
  
Had he even seen the lightning, seen what was about to hit him. Did her know what had happened? What would happen. And had he attempted to move. Get out of the way, but being to late. Late like Barry Allen always were.  
  
She still see his body inside her head. Even with her eyes open, she can see ever single detail. And part of her is grateful that David Singh had already pulled him out of the messy lab.  
  
She remembers every cut over his face, down his hands and fingers. The blood slowly, and surely mixing in with the chemicals and water that covered most of his body. Seeping into his close. Into the dark red sweater, that had covered his chest. The sweater they’d cut open as soon as they possibly could. Barry’s favorite sweater. The one he’d bought back in high school, and somehow still fit into. That one that could no longer be bought. That one that he’d never wear again.  
  
Iris had check, seeing if there was any way to get a new one for him. Christmas coming up and all. It wasn’t the first night her thoughts had brought her here.  
  
She’d sat right there, on the edge of her bed, her phone held tightly in her hand looking through webstore after webstore. All coming up empty. As if, that shirt had to die with her brother.  
  
She knows deep down, that if she’d been able to find the shirt, she wouldn’t have bought it.  
  
She lays here, already staring at the mountain of presents on her desk. Over half of them to Barry. Weird, nerdy toys, that Iris will never understand. They’re expensive. And the red paper, the silver bows, and the glitters covering the tag attached to the end of the curled bond makes her shiver of the thought that Barry might never wake up to open them. And see what she’s gotten him.  
  
He will never see the looks on her face, or Joe’s face as they open the gifts from Barry. She knows he’s already been out, handpicking the perfect items. Hidden them somewhere home in his apartment. And that hurts.  
  
What might be the last gift from her best friend, will be a gift he might never get’s a thanks for. Or one of those amazing hugs, that Joe always gives them both.  
  
Iris’ gives up. Finally letting herself say screw sleep as she pushes herself up into a sitting position. Taking in the dark and quiet room. Before she pushes off her covers, letting the cold chilly air hit her, as she swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet’s meeting the soft carpet. Slipping in between her toe’s as she puts her full weight down and get’s up. Moving towards her desk with one goal. Showing the neatly rapped gifts down into a nearby, empty, plastic bag.  
  
Sorting through each and ever one of them. Leaving only those for her father out. Before she hides the plastic bag deep inside her closet. Throwing some old hoodie over it, hiding a part of her life away inside a box. Because right now, Barry can be nothing more than a memory.  
  
A memory, just like her mother. Pushed to the back of her mind.  
  
In the distance she hears Joe’s car pull up into the driveway. The old engine singing it’s last verse, and soon needs replacement. Replacement they might not be able to afford of Barry needs medical treatment for a longer period of time. Or if Barry never walks again, and they need to find a handicap friendly place to live. Or if Barry wakes up, but never really recovers. A constant, permanent, vegetative state. Leaving Iris and Joe to care for him for the rest of his life.  
  
Iris wonders if Barry would want that. Being unable to do anything for himself ever again.  
  
She hears Joe’s car door slam shut behind him, as his footsteps echo’s on the pavement. And Iris wishes that it was Barry coming to visit after a late night at work. Not wanted to drive all the way back to his apartment. But she knows it’s not.  
  
She hears the door downstairs go up, only to be closed soon after. And Joe’s quite movement shows her, that he thinks she’s asleep, as he does his final round before going into his bedroom.  
  
Iris knows that they’ll both lay awake into the early morning hours.  
  
She let’s her closet door slip shut. Clicking into place. Before she moves towards the bed again. But she doesn’t creep under the covers. She sits down next to it, pulling her phone out of her charger. Looking through her notifications.  
  
She isn’t surprised to see a tone of Facebook posts that her and her father is tagged in. Wishing them that best, and hoping Barry will get back to his feet soon enough. And Iris feels a rage build inside of her, when she see’s that Barry’s lifetime bully has posted as well. Some old, stupid picture from middle school. The class photo from that year. Barry wearing that stupid red and yellow backpack. Clinging it to his side at all time. And Iris want’s to respond to the words claiming a long and happy friendship. Correct him and remind him of the broken bones he’d caused.  
  
There’s a handful of messages from Felicity, letting her known she’ll be stopping by the hospital the following morning if Iris want’s some stranger’s shoulder to cry on. Or just to be silence together, in these dark, desperate moments.  
  
Iris looks over the messages. A reminder that she doesn’t know Barry all that well anymore.  
  
He hadn’t even told her about this new, potential love interest.  
  
Iris sends as thumbs up, not feeling anything else at the moment. Just as her bedroom door slides out. Letting the light from the hallway slide in. As Joe shows himself in the door. The dark bags under his eyes, a clear indication that he needs a break. A break that he won’t get any time soon.  
  
“You still up?” her father voiced is laced with concern, but Iris just nods. Not finding her voice able to respond. As her father words suddenly reminds her so much of Barry.  
  
Tears threatening to spill from the corner of her eyes. “You know Barry will be alright. Right? He isn’t one to give up”.  
  
“I know” Iris whispers, her voice breaking. Making her cough lightly.  
  
Joe sighs, his shoulders slumping, “Don’t stay up too late. I’m meeting late tomorrow morning; we could stop by the hospital together if you want”.  
  
Iris nods absently. “Felicity will be there too”. She says, meetings her father eyes.  
  
By the time Iris get’s back to bed, and let’s the sleep get’s the better of her, a last though pops into her mind. A quotes she’s read during one of her insomnia nights.  
  
I’m not falling asleep, I overthink myself into a coma.  
  
But it might be a little to early for that kind of jokes.


	2. Narcolepsy

Iris pokes at her bowl of cereal, the O shaped breakfast getting sloppy as they suck up the milk. Watching her father as he just sips his morning coffee in small careful bits. His hands shaky, and his eyes looking even more dead than her owns. “How long till you have to get back to work?”.  
  
Joe shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of the dark coffee. “Singh says I can most likely stay off work till the new year” he replies, “Eddie Thawne, the new guy from keystone is covering for me”.  
  
“That’s nice of him. Seems like a good person” Iris nods, remembering his face as he’d helped Barry into the police car that night, after getting Iris’ laptop. “He caught that thief that stole my laptop last week, you know”.  
  
Joe’s brown sinks a little, “It’s… it’s only been a week?” he pulls his phone up staring it like he’s seen a ghost. As if time had ticked slower than normally. Iris knows what that feels like. Without Barry in the house, it’s so quiet. It’s so empty. Painfully so. And a distant Part of Iris keep expecting him to walk through the front door at any moment, Iris running into his arms, hugging him tight. She expects him to come back home, but as she looks at the door… he doesn’t come.  
  
She nods instead, distantly. Joe sinks a little deeper into himself, forgetting about his soon to be cold coffee. His hands limp around the cup.  
  
It doesn’t quite seem like a week. It seems like an eternity already. And Iris can’t quiet imagen that thing will go fully back to the way things were. Before the lightning. Before Barry’s parents where killed. Or hell… before her own mother died. And if she really want’s things to go back to how they were, she isn’t so sure either.  
  
The reality is, that their little miss match family is better than what she remembers it had been before her mother left. And sure, it was tragic that Barry had to come live with them. His mother dead, his dead convicted. But he’d made it feel like home again.  
  
That was something Iris never told Barry. And probably never would. Ever.  
  
Iris let’s her sweater sleeve slide down her hands. A slight comfort from the soft Fabrice. And someplace that reminds her so much of Barry. About how he always liked soft cloths.  
  
Iris let’s go of the spoon, pushing the half empty bowl away from herself. Watching as it slides over the kitchen table, the milk spilling over the sides. A sudden rock in her stomach, makes her nauseous and sick. Like a stone growing in a throat. A worry for Barry as she leans her elbows down on the dark wood.  
  
They’ve sat her together so many times. Hour in an hour out, doing homework. Eating dinner. Doing weekly dinner night after Barry moved out into a small apartment.  
  
Now the table seems so empty, and the living room so quiet.  
  
Family game night has been replaced with hospital visits, and a prayer that Barry will wake up. That he’ll get back onto his feet in no time and be alright. They hope. The ‘If’ is never said out loud.  
  
“Uh…” Joe snaps back into reality. Iris watches as his eyes returns, refocuses, “When did that girl… uh, Felicity, right? When did she plan on going to the hospital?”.  
  
Iris shrugs, “She just texted that it would be in the morning hours”.  
  
Joe nods and tightens his grip around the coffee cup. The last few mouthfuls are downed in big gulps. “We should probably get going if we want to say hello to her. Unless you have to work on that… uh…” her father shakes his head, running his hands through his mostly non existing hair, “That… School thing”.  
  
“Dissertation” Iris says with a nod, “I’ve gotten extended time to do it. With…” sigh, “… With everything going on it’s kind of hard to keep focused”.  
  
Her father nod’s and places a careful hand on top of her own. Squeezing it tight. It’s comforting in a way most things aren’t anymore.  
  
The living room, the place where Iris so often sit’s down to relax after a long day of school, is filled with pictures of the person missing the most from her life. So many memories from Christmas over the years, decorating the Christmas tree. Turning on a good holiday movie.  
  
Her bedroom is filled with things too. The constant reminders that Barry isn’t there. The gifts now hidden was one thing, but as Iris had gone to get a clean sweater, she’d found one of Barry’s hoodies, his favorite, one she’d borrowed sometime late fall and forgotten to return. And it had just been hanging there, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. But it was! It was Barry’s. Not hers. It was supposed to be in Barry’s closet in the small apartment. Not here.  
  
“It’s hard” she whispers, “It’s hard to think he’ll be okay, when no matter where I look, there’s a constant reminder that he just isn’t here. That he’s… missing”.  
  
Joe nods, “I know, Iris. I know”. He looks into her eyes like only a father can, “I know”.

***

Felicity is sitting in the hallway outside of Barry’s room once Iris and Joe shows up. The door is wide open, and Iris can feel her heart jump in her chest as she fears the worst.  
  
Is he dead? Did something happen to him? Emergency? Surgery? New procedure?  
  
They’ve got the best doctor’s in Central City on it. Hell, maybe the best doctor’s in the world. Joe has, as Barry’s legal guardian signed, that they can do whatever they need to do, whenever they need to do it. As long as it’s in the best interesting for Barry’s future recovery. And they’ve been warned that he might… disappear… once in a while for certain procedures that can’t be done directly in the ICU.  
  
That doesn’t make it any less scary as they walk up. But Felicity, Barry’s friend, doesn’t seem worried at all. She just nods at them in greeting, but almost completely focused on her phone.  
  
Her father sighs place a careful hand on Iris’ shoulder and looks her into the eyes before he turns around. Attempting to catch the attention of a nearby nurse. Without any luck. And suddenly Iris feels so alone, as Joe turns down a corner and deeper into the hospital. Out of her reach.  
  
And so she just, kind of stands there. In the middle of the hallway, next to the open door. Looking around, but not really seeing anything. Lost in her own mind. Caught of guard as Felicity speaks.  
  
“You can sit down if you want” Felicity nods at the seat next to her. Her phone screen now dark in her hands. “I don’t bite. Promise”.  
  
And so, Iris does. She takes nervous steps towards the empty chair and slides down into it shaking. It’s awkward. She barely knows this woman’s first name and has no clue how she knows Barry. Suddenly she’d just shown up. And to add to the mystery, two men that Felicity’s friends had been to visit Barry too. People neither her nor Joe knew. Or… technically, Joe had meet them. Iris had been at home, attempting to sleep after her father’s orders.  
  
Needless to say that hadn’t really worked.  
  
“How do you know Barry” Iris blurts out, in a way on West can. “I mean, he’s never talked about you before. So, I don’t know who you are really. Or where you come from”.  
  
Felicity doesn’t look faced by the question at all as she chuckles kindly. Reaching a handout to Iris, “Felicity Smoak” she says, “I worked with Barry on a case in Starling city. I’m Oliver Queen’s assistant. The break in happened as Queen consolidated. Barry was a great help”.  
  
“One of his impossible cases then” Iris nods to herself, taking Felicity’s hand and shakes it. The woman’s bubble gum pink lips matching her nails. “I’m Iris West. Barry’s…” she isn’t sure what to say. Brother kinda seems weird around this stranger. And Iris doesn’t know how much, or how little, Barry has told his new friends from Starling. And Barry being her ‘foster brother’, doesn’t feel right to Iris either. She settles on the easy explanation, “Friend”. It’s pulled out. There’s a break in the middle of the sentence. And Iris can feel the awkward silence right away, as Felicity pulls back a little, suddenly a little scared. “We went to school together”, Iris add.  
  
Felicity nods quietly, “That makes sense. Tell me, has he always been such a big nerd?”.  
  
“Honestly…” Iris nods with a grin, “Yes. He’s always been the biggest nerd ever. He’d rather read a good book, than go to a party while in college. Didn’t have any friends”.  
  
Joe comes down the hallway soon enough, as Felicity and Iris falls into more casual conversation. He seems out of breath, but only ever so slightly. A nurse behind him.  
  
“I’m sorry we didn’t warn you first. That is a mistake on our part. Mr. Allen should be back here soon” the nurse apologizes. But Iris has a feeling, the nurse has nothing to do with it. “It’s common to please a PEG feeding tube in a coma patient abdomen. It makes it easier to make sure he get’s the nutrition his body needs to recover. And it very helpful during the first time after a coma as well” the nurse nods and shows them a picture of said tube. Iris can feel her body shake as she looks over the pictures, but… really, it doesn’t look that big. It’s small. Seems, secure. “Due to Mr. Allen’s condition, it was decided this would give him a better chance of making, a recovery. But the placement is noninvasive and pain free. Mr. Allen won’t have felt a thing”.

***

Soon enough, Iris finds herself sitting at Barry’s bedside. The hospital swallowing him up. His body weak, and small under the thin covers. As her father and Felicity is talking in the hallway.  
  
Iris finds her fingers run over the rough plastic that comes out of Barry’s stomach. At the moment connected to a small pump filling his tommy with much needed food. Keeping his body going a little longer. Keeps his heart beating through yet, another night. Another minute. Another hour. Another day. And Iris can accept that even if it hurts to see him like this.  
  
“Iris?” Joe’s voice pull’s her out of her thoughts. “I just asked if you wanted any coffee. I’m picking something up for myself and felicity”. Iris gives a tight nod, her doesn’t trust her voice enough to speak. “The usually?”. Iris nods again.  
  
Joe promises to be back soon. Felicity takes the chair on the other side of the bed. “Felicity?”.  
  
The blond woman looks up at Iris. Her eyes switching from Barry’s sickly face, to her own. Looking into her eyes. “Do you want a moment with him alone?” Felicity asks, starting to get up. “Of course you do. That’s fine. I’m-“.  
  
“Stay” Iris says, voice breaking. “I just… wanted to know if you had any plans for Christmas”.  
  
Felicity looks taken aback. But shakes her head. “I’ll probably just stay here in Central for a few more weeks. He should wake up soon. The doctor’s says he’s getting better”.  
“Would you maybe want to join me and my father for Christmas?” Iris asks then, “I know we don’t know each other. But, we both know Barry. And it won’t be all that big, but just some calm moment. We might get Chine’s and just, sit here for the night”.  
  
Felicity looks at Iris, then nods. “That sound’s good. But I’m more into big belly burgers”.  
  
“Sounds good” Joe calls from the door, as the swings open. Coffee in hand.


End file.
